The Souls We Share
by TheWorldSmith
Summary: From tragedy to joy, death to redemption, sorrow to comfort. These are the moments we share as we live and bleed and die together. Nothing's too hard when you have a friend by your side. Soul Eater 100 prompt challenge.


**A/N:** I must scincerly thank you for taking time out of your day to humor me as an author and I can only hope that you will find the following story acceptable. This is the first of my 100 Prompt Challenge for Soul Eater. I hope you ejoy. If you have any comments, questions, or concerns feel free to review or shoot me a message :] I do not yet have a beta and if you are interested in helping me and my stories improve feel free to contact me.

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><p><strong>Introductions.1<strong>

Maka Albarn stared at the house in amazement. Being the daughter of a Death Scythe and one of the DWMA's top meisters, Maka was used to big houses. But this….this was ridiculous! It was huge for sure, but what startled Maka was the lack of….order. There wasn't any obvious architectural style, nor sensible floor plan or layout. It was just big, confusing, and was that a piano sticking out of the roof? A faint sound was coming from inside.

Make sighed. _The hell kind of Weapon lived in a house like this_, she thought bleakly. It was bad enough that Lord Death was using her as his errand girl until her first term at DWMA started, but this Weapon was probably worse than her father.

Technically though there was a little more to it than that. The DWMA's Resonance Day, as it had come to be called, had already come and gone. It was the day when all the students, both Weapon and Meister, came to find a partner whose souls they could resonate with, hence the name. And although there were many Meisters who already had a Weapon partner, Maka was not one of them, and no matter how hard she tried, her wavelength just couldn't quite match up with any of the student Weapons at the DWMA.

"Not to worry though!" Lord Death had told Maka latter that day. "There seems to be one Weapon who didn't come to our grand Resonance Day. Apparently he's one of the Evan's children. They're a very famous musical family in LA. In fact I have a few of their CD's myself. They're quite catchy! There son Wes is especially talented with a violin. Why, just the other day…"

Maka could tell Lord Death was getting off track…again. If she didn't refocus his attention she could be here for hours. After all, one needed Lord Death's permission to leave the Death Room and she couldn't get that with him telling her his life story.

"Excuse me. Lord Death? What about the Weapon?" interrupted Maka.

"Oh! Right! Anyways, I'm absolutely positive that this person will be the one you can resonate with!"

"And if not?" It wasn't a question Maka wanted to ask but knew she had to.

"If not then you'll have to wait till next year's resonance day to enter the academy. Sorry but that's the rules: no meister can enter the academy without a Weapon partner."

Maka knew this all too well. It was one thing for a Weapon to not have a meister, but for a Meister to not have a weapon would be suicide.

Maka took a deep breath and strode towards the house. The closer she got the more the sound she had heard earlier began to distinguish itself. Maka recognized it instantly, a piano. The music became louder and louder, washing over Maka. It was unlike any piece she had ever heard. It was sad and desperate, but there was a hidden power beneath it all; like a lion stuck in a cage. Maka stood on the door mat for a second just letting the music wash over her.

Finally she knocked on the door.

She waited a second

Two seconds

Five…

"Come in! Come in! The door is oooopen!" sang a voice from inside the house. Literally _sang_. Maka didn't realize his rather good singing voice however, as her mind was mostly filled with one though and one thought only: _Please do not let this be the Weapon._

Tentatively, she opened the door. As she did the piano music reverberated through her.

The main hallway was, to Maka's delight, not as ridiculous as the outside had been. The ground had been tiled gray and black, and a large, curving staircase led up to the second story of the house. On her left was what she assumed to be the dinning room, with a large mahogany table with a complex chandelier hanging above it, and at least a dozen chairs around its perimeter. To Maka's right was some kind of studio.

What really grabbed her attention however, were the sheer number of pictures on the walls. They adorned every inch of every wall, coming in an extensive variety of frames. As she looked she realized that not all of them were recent. Although there were plenty of high-def color pictures there were also black and white photos and even a few faded portraits. There was everything from grand family photos that took up half a wall to small, wallet-sized photos, like those kids got on picture day.

"Hello, hello!" sang a man coming from the dinning room.

He was a tall, handsome man with a long face and piercing red eyes. His silver hair was pulled back in a pony tail and a large part of his face was covered in an ear to ear grin. Smile lines stretched across his face. His teeth, Maka noticed with a start, were pointed.

"How do you do Miss…eh, I don't think I got your name."

He was still singing.

"Albarn, Maka Albarn," the soon-to-be meister replied with as much grace as she could muster. _PLEASE do not let him be the Weapon. _

"Very pleased—no—honored, to meet your acquaintance Albarn Maka Albarn! _I_ am James C. Evens. You're a huge fan of my music I'm sure!"

"Actually," said Maka a bit nervously, "I've never heard any of your music."

"_What?_"

Maka was instantly sorry she had said anything as Mr. Evens burst into anguished tears and proceeded to sob in a corner, a dark cloud hovering over him.

_PLEASE DON'T LET HIM BE THE WEAPON!_

That's when something clicked in Maka's mind.

"Did you say your name was _James _Evens?"

"Why yes I did indeed!" said Mr. Evens suddenly in front of her and seemingly oblivious to his mental breakdown a second earlier. "So you've heard of me after all?"

"No. Sorry."

Mr. Evens was back in the corner.

Maka sighed in relief. This wasn't the Soul Evens she was looking for. Still...the man obviously wasn't Soul, but any child (or relative for that matter) of the man before her would likely be equally insane. Maybe it would be better if she just waited another year to join the academy. Having a partner who was off their rocker might not be the best choice, especially if she was determined to make a Death Scythe more powerful than her bastard of a father.

_No,_ Maka decided. _I can't afford to lose a year of collecting souls. My mom turned Papa into a Death Scythe when she was eighteen. If my partner's going to be the strongest I can't let my emotions detour me._

"Well here! Have a CD!" said Mr. Evens interrupting Maka's thoughts and handing her his latest album. "Now, of what do I owe the pleasure?"

Maka clenched her fist, stood up strait, and set a look of determination on her face. She always did this when formally addressing adults. She might only be fifteen but she wasn't going to let any adult look down on _her_. "I'm looking for someone named Soul Eater Evens," she said almost fiercely.

Not missing a beat, Mr. Evens grabbed Maka's hands, his eyes sparkling, an expression of pure delight stretching across his face. "You must be a talent scout, am I wrong? Come to hear my son and his famous piano playing eh? Well, I must tell you that he has a very busy schedule. You aren't the first to come you know. Frankly he's a bit tired of it all. Perhaps if-"

"Mr. Evens," Maka interrupted as politely as she could without clobbering his head in with the album she still had in her hand, "I'm not a talent scout. I'm a student from Death's Weapon and Meister Academy."

Mr. Evens' face darkened and when he spoke he was no longer singing. "I see, you're from that school, are you? Here to take our pride and joy away from us so you can endanger his life on a regular basis while hunting demons?" His eyes narrowed with distaste. "Let me tell you something Albarn Maka Albarn, this is not a life I want for my child and if I had my way he wouldn't even set a foot into that dreadful place."

The musician had gotten uncomfortably close, his face inches away from her. For a second, she was honestly afraid of him. After a few tense moments Mr. Evens sighed sadly and backed away. "I suppose there's no helping it though. It's his choice after all. I just wish he would at least consider staying."

With a final sigh he turned to the stair way and called Soul's name.

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><p>Soul stopped playing as soon as he heard his name.<p>

With a huff of annoyance he stood up from the piano and began making his way to the grand entry.

He swore to Death that if his father had set up another audition with a talent scout he would use the poor bastard to test how sharp his blade really was. He wondered how easily it would cut through someone's _spine_,

_That is_, he thought with a sigh,_ if I can ever learn to control it._

Ever since he had learned of his strange power he had been trying to learn how to change into a weapon at will, but as it was it simply wouldn't happen. Try as he might, he couldn't become a blade at his own accord. He'd tried everything from medication to meditation (granted he could only hold that state of mind for ten minutes tops), but at the end of it all his arm would still be just a frail musician's arm.

As far as he could tell anger was what triggered the change. The first and only time he had become a weapon was when he and Wes had been relaxing under the big oak tree that grew in their backyard. If you call twenty acres of hills and trees a backyard that is. Wes had been talking about his upcoming violin tour and Soul had gotten mad at his brother. Mad at his talent. Mad at the attention he got. And the next thing he knew, his arm was no longer an arm but the gleaming blade of a scythe.

Immediately Soul had seized the opportunity to use his ability as a way out of his current life. He was tired of living in his brother's shadow and he was tired of his parents forcing him to be something he wasn't. So he had contacted the DWMA and packed his bags. All that was left was for him now was to actually get to the DWMA.

Soul stopped walking when he hit the top of the stairs. At the base of the stairway stood two people, one was his father; the other was a flat-chested girl no older than he was. She wore a dusty, black trench coat and wore a plaid skirt. She had cream colored hair and striking green eyes that looked a little too fierce for someone her age.

Soul's heart was beating so loud he was afraid the girl would here it. This girl was no talent scout. For one thing, the scouts always dressed to impress, which clearly this girl was not trying to do. And for another, they were always overly nice and friendly, this girl looked as cold as the Artic.

_No kid her age should look that angry,_ though Soul a bit sadly. And then, _Like I'm one to talk._

"Ah, there you are Soul."

His father's voice brought Soul out of his thoughts. It also brought terror to Soul. How bad had things been going with him and the guest for him to not be treating life like his own personal musical?

"This," said his father indicating to the young girl standing next to him "is Albarn Maka Albarn. She is a…student," he could not bring himself to say meister "from Death's Weapon and Meister Academy."

The contempt in his father's voice startled Soul. His father's temper was small and slow to be provoked. In his life only twice had his father let so much anger seep through him. Once when a nine year old Soul smashed his favorite flute and once when, by a weird set of circumstances, they had had six door to door salesmen in a row. Wild the man might be, but his heart was one usually kept to himself.

But at the same time he was ecstatic. To have a meister, _here_, was like something out of a dream. He often feared the Academy would be too full, or just not want him. He was a scythe after all. Those had to be pretty common right? What if he was just an average kid with no remarkable ability at all and the DWMA would just ignore him.

But no! They were _here_! They _came_!

And so, caught between joy and caution, Soul merely stood at the top of the stairs, politely waiting for the meister to speak first. His heart was hammering so loudly in his chest he though he wouldn't be able to hear Albarn if she said anything to him. Had his breathing always been this loud?

"Please," said Albarn with a dry smile "call me Maka."

"No problem," said Soul, trying to sound as cool as he could. He _had _to impress this girl.

The two started at each other for a moment. There was something there. Soul could almost _feel_ it. He wasn't sure what it was, or if it was even real. Maybe the other girl felt nothing and it was just his own heightened emotions. But gazing at the girl in front of him…something just felt _right_.

His father cleared his throat and Soul looked away from the girl toward him. Whatever he had felt (and maybe she too had felt) had disappeared as soon as it had came.

"Ill…leave you two alone for awhile…"

His father turned on his heel and strode from the room.

Silence.

"So…" Maka's voice was casual. But Soul had enough experience with people to know she was forcing it. There was an anxiety underlining he nonchalant tone. "What do you uh…do around here?"

"I play the piano mostly," said Soul calmly. The Albarn girl was probably hoping for something more impressive, but why bother lying right? It was best to avoid the topic of him being a weapon for now. He certainly didn't want to let slip that he couldn't even _become_ a weapon at will.

"Oh," said Maka. Something seemed to have registered with him. Her eyes widened and her back stiffened slightly. Her hands that had been clasped behind her back were now folded over her heart. "I love the piano."

What was this, wondered Soul. He was picking up on every little detail. He saw how her emotions affected her movement. It was like her body was speaking. Her movements told a story. He had never done this with anyone before. Every little twitch told him more about her. And there it was again: that connection he had felt before. But more defined now.

"You play?" asked Soul, weary of what was going on with his head.

Maka looked at the floor. Her hands were behind her back again and…_stop it,_ hissed Soul to himself. He focused on her striking emerald eyes, determined to keep, whatever this was, at bay. Soul was completely unaware that the same was happening with Maka, and that she was trying to impress him every bit as much as he was her.

Sounding slightly abashed Maka said, "No," but quickly added "But I heard you play. You're…really good."

Soul blinked. Could this be his chance to impress her? He hadn't really been playing anything, just something that had come to him, but he _remembered it_! And if she liked it…if she thought he was special…

"Would you like to hear it?"

Maka nodded excitedly.

Putting on his coolest, most charming smile, Soul strode down the stairs and offered a hand to Maka. She took it and when their hands touched something clicked inside him. It was like a sixth sense had awakened in him, something he knew now he couldn't live without, and had no idea how he had lived this long with out it. It felt like he was…_whole_. This girl, Maka, seemed to have felt something too because she just stared at Soul, mouth slightly open, those intense emerald eyes boring into his own scarlet colored ones. Something passed between them then. A kind of understanding. For a moment everything about this girl was crystal clear to Soul. All her heartbreak and all her joys were his. For that second he knew her better than anyone, including herself. And he knew she was feeling it too.

Then it was over and Soul knew he would no longer have trouble becoming a weapon. He knew now what he had been missing; what had held him back. It was a partner. The other half of his whole.

Maka looked dumbstruck for a second, but then regained her posture and smiled at him.

He smiled back staining his cool façade to the limits.

Her soft hand still in his, he gently led her to the nearest piano, which was in the family studio. The room was dimly lit. The tile was black and red and the theme of having a ridiculous amount of pictures held true to this room as well. In the middle was a black piano. Soul strode to the instrument and sat down, letting go of Maka's hand and gently placing his figures on the keys. He took a moment to feel the cool, smooth keys become one with his figures, like he had become one with Maka.

Maka looked down at him with giddy anticipation.

He took a deep breath and began to play.

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><p><strong>AN:** So after a year of hiatus I'm finally posting stories again! Yea! Between ADD and High school it's been tough and I probably won't be posting anything for another month because my procrastination is just _that _bad.

Anyways, this is part of the 100 prompt challenge and because I am in love with Soul Eater (manga more so than the anime) I (obviously) decided to center my 100 prompt around it. The first theme was "Introductions" so honestly what else was I going to do? I considered adding Kid and the Thomson sister's meeting as well as BlackStar's and Tsubaki's but in the end I was too lazy. I might do it in the future however so stay tuned.

I also would like to say that I LOVE how I did Soul's father. I rarely laugh at my own characters but I have a habit of writing ridiculous dads whom I can laugh at because in some or another they reflect my own ridiculous, embarrassing, child-at-heart father.

But I've gone on too long. Review if you feel the need. Critics are accepted and advice accepted and taken to heart. Flame me if you must but try to keep the mindless raving to a minimum.

Yours Truely,

!~Weirdo~!


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